Mr Darcy and the Cold Trail
by pandora888
Summary: A P&P variation which starts when Mr Darcy meets the mysterious Lord Alex Caine and learns that Georgiana might be in danger at Ramsgate.
1. Chapter 1 - Lord Alex Caine

Mr Darcy and the Cold Trail

Chapter 1: Lord Alex Caine

In the summer of 1811, Fitzwilliam Darcy was back in London from Pemberley by mid July. He had a week of business meetings planned, after which he would join his young sister Georgiana in Ramsgate.

At this time of year London was, of course, deserted by society. Solitude was not normally a problem for Darcy. However, by his second evening in town, he felt as unsettled as the unusually hot and stormy weather.

After a late lone dinner, Darcy took his drink into the library and attempted to cure his restlessness by reading. It was not long before he cast the book aside in frustration.

Another storm was brewing and, by the sound of it, closing in fast. Darcy walked over to a window, drew back the curtain and looked out at the street. Grey clouds hid the sunset, darkening the skies early. Nobody was around. Thunder was close and loud and rain started falling.

Darcy opened the long window a little to let in some cool air. He dragged a chair over and settled in to watch the show. After the thunder eased, the rain was hypnotic and he fell asleep.

The returning storm woke Darcy. Throwing off the shades of sleep he stood up, stretched and looked out the window. The sound of thunder was ominous and persistent. The rain was heavy.

A sudden bolt of lightning illuminated the scene below and Darcy watched as a lone carriage made its way up the street. To his surprise, the carriage stopped outside his house, its four horses nervous and dripping. While the driver held the horses, a groom jumped down to open the coach door. Darcy caught a glimpse of a tall caped figure that leapt out of the coach without waiting for the groom to lower the stairs. Moments later, there was a loud banging on Darcy's front door.

Despite the late hour and the lack of a knocker, someone was demanding entrance to the Darcy townhouse.

Even though he was curious and, to be truthful, very hopeful of an interesting diversion, Darcy remained in the library. It was beneath his dignity to be too interested. Wilkens the butler would deal with the visitor. He heard the front door open and voices in the foyer but could not hear what was said.

Soon enough there was a knock on the library door and Wilkens entered. "Mr Darcy", he said apologetically, "Lord Alex Caine has called and requests a word."

"Lord Alex Caine?" Darcy said. "Alex Caine! Of all people! I haven't seen him for years! No one has."

"I did say you were not at home to visitors."

"It's all right, Wilkens. I will see him. Bring him in here." Darcy stood.

"Very good, sir." Wilkens left the room. He returned shortly with Darcy's guest.

"Lord Alex Caine" announced Wilkens.

" Alex Caine. What a surprise!"

"Will Darcy" said Lord Alex, bowing deeply. "Please forgive this intrusion."

Darcy returned the bow. "Think nothing of it! You are most welcome."

Greeting rituals allowed Darcy to study his visitor, a man he had hardly seen since university days. Alex wore impeccable evening dress that did not hide his powerful frame. His long dark hair was tied back neatly; his green eyes were smiling but wary and yes, tired.

"Would you like me to bring coffee, Mr Darcy?" Wilkens asked.

"Yes thank you, Wilkens." said Darcy, pouring a drink for Alex and topping up his own.

As Wilkens departed to organise coffee, Darcy and Alex settled down in the chairs by the cold fireplace.

Darcy was rapidly trying to remember everything he could about Lord Alex Caine, a man known for being more socially elusive than Darcy himself. There were even rumours he was a spy!

Now the man looked exhausted and seemed disinclined to speak. Darcy really hoped he wasn't going to have to carry the conversation!

He made an effort. "I heard you had moved to the continent" he said, "It must be years." Darcy paused as he remembered the tragedy that befell the Caine family seven years earlier.

Alex said, "After we lost Hugh."

"Yes, I remember. That was tragic...inexplicable."

"Indeed." said Alex. Alex's elder brother Hugh was foully murdered, about seven years ago. The murderer was never caught.

Wilkens and a housemaid arrived with the coffee. Darcy need not have worried. After the servants departed, Alex was very much inclined to talk.

"Darcy, while I wish this was purely a social call, I am in urgent need of some information from you."

"From me?"

"Yes. I'd better explain. I know that rumour has me as some kind of spy, doing noble service for king and country. That is not so, though my work involves extensive investigation. Truth is I am involved in finding and capturing a certain type of criminal, the kind of murderer who kills repeatedly. I mostly work on the continent but occasionally on these shores. My motivation is purely personal.

For the past six months, my cousin Jack Caine and I have been tracking a particularly wily and elusive criminal through several countries including, most recently, this one. This type of killer usually works alone, however it became obvious to us that this criminal had help, an assistant. While this assistant did not seem to participate in the murders, he certainly helped the assailant escape us on several occasions and at least once altered the crime scene in an attempt to throw us off the scent."

Darcy said "A strange story. Why would someone aid a murderer, without being directly involved?"

Alex hesitated, and then said, "There is undoubtedly payment or a relationship of some kind or other...this killer favours young girls. It is possible he pays his assistant to find them for him."

"That is diabolical! Have you any idea who these men are?" asked Darcy.

"Possibly. Of the murderer, we received matching descriptions from one or two victims who lived long enough to speak. Just above average height, long straight fair hair, pale skin, thin, wiry but strong, very strong. We had no description of the assistant; indeed we had surmised his existence before we had any proof of it.

They were always just one step ahead of us as we moved from village to village, town to town. Where would they be next? Questioning people - victims, families, and innkeepers - slowed us down but was essential.

At the end of one tiring and frustrating day we stopped at a large inn in a busy market town. We were done in. I was falling asleep over my food when Jack said softly.

'Don't turn around. On the other side of the room, in the corner, there is someone I have been watching. He is mostly withdrawn into the shadows. He is wearing a cloak with the hood up, covering his face, but once he leaned forward to speak to his companion and I saw pale skin and long fair hair. '

'Companion? Can you see his face?' I asked.

'He has his back mostly to me. I can just see the side of his face. He too is wearing a cloak but with the hood down. Dark wavy hair, cut short. He would be tall, I'd say, as tall as you, easily.'

Then Jack said. 'He looks familiar - the companion'.

At that moment, there was an uproar outside, yelling and screaming – 'Murder, murder!' The door burst open and a man came in carrying the bloody body of young girl. Several other people, sobbing and screaming, followed him into the room. We were instantly on our feet, as the room erupted into panic and hysteria.

'They're on the move!' hissed Jack. Although hindered by the press of people I managed a quick look at the tall one, as he followed his companion out the back door. In his haste, his hood was still down. We were closer to the front door but it seemed to take forever to get through the crowd and outside. By then, the two had vanished. We searched all night but found no trace of them. "

Alex said, "Jack was right. The man seemed familiar, but I had only a quick impression and could not place him. The next morning we talked to the innkeeper. The tall one had paid for a room they didn't, as it turned out, sleep in. The innkeeper said the man was English and gave his name."

"What name?"

"Darcy".

A cold bitterness filled Fitzwilliam Darcy as he realised where this was probably heading.

"Surely you didn't think it was I? There are plenty of Darcys. It might also be a false name."

"I am sure it was a false name, for him. My impression was that, physically, the man could have been you. Jack agreed. However, we found it hard to believe. It did not square with our memories of you, your character."

"Thank you for that!" Darcy laughed harshly.

"It was also easy, when we returned to these fair shores, to find proof that you had not left the country in recent years."

"True," said Darcy.

"So we thought about relatives of yours, cousins or brothers."

"You know I don't have a brother!"

"Yes I do. I also know that your Fitzwilliam cousins don't look at all like you. There is someone else, though, isn't there? There were rumours at Cambridge. I have been kicking myself for it took me weeks to remember his existence, let alone his name. Not the sort of man one wants to spend any time with, so, easily forgotten."

Darcy saw red. "He is NOT my brother!"

"I see we are of two minds," said Alex. "George Wickham."

"Yes. I wish _I_ could forget him!" Darcy briefly buried his face in his hands and groaned. Would he never be free from the pernicious legacies of his father's advancement of his favourite godson - that lazy, weak, dangerously charming servant?

Darcy raised his head and stared at Alex. "You said they are now back in this country?"

"Yes, they are. To our shame, we lost their trail for weeks. We now know they crossed about six weeks ago but they went to ground very quickly. They are still very elusive but a name can only help us.

Assuming it is Wickham, we have sent out spies in every direction attempting to locate him. Jack went east. I have been south to no avail. That brings me to you. Have you seen anything of George Wickham lately?"

"Not for two years or more."

At that moment, there was another loud banging on the front door. "That might be an express for me." said Alex apologetically. "I left word I would be calling here."

A knock at the library door signalled the entrance of Wilkens. "An express for Lord Alex. Excuse me, my lord, but the rider says it is urgent. He also needs an answer."

"Thank you" said Alex. He read quickly. "Excellent!"

Wilkens had writing materials at hand. Alex quickly scrawled a reply and gave it to Wilkens.

"Good news?" asked Darcy.

"Yes! Darcy, I must go. Jack has located Wickham at an inn in an east coast town. He has been there the past three weeks and…"

"Which east coast town? Darcy interrupted, as a dreadful premonition took hold of him.

"Ramsgate. Why? What's the matter, Darcy?"

"My sister! Georgiana is in Ramsgate."


	2. Chapter 2 - An interview with Mr Darcy

Ch 2 repost

Chapter 2, repost 1. This version more accurately presents mourning customs - thank you JeanB! Also, thank you all for the great reviews for Chapter 1. Very encouraging.

Mr Darcy and the Cold Trail

Chapter 2: An interview with Mr Darcy

previously…early June 1811

In London in 1811, a woman living alone in straitened circumstances led a precarious existence.

A lady of society who had previously known a certain amount of wealth and status might suffer considerably at a sudden change of fortune, even if not reduced to actual poverty. One such lady was Mrs Sarah Younge.

This early June day was a special one for Sarah for it marked the beginning of her return to society after a difficult six months. First, she had an important interview and later she would attend a friend's soiree.

At the beginning of December 1810, Mrs Younge's husband Frederick had died suddenly. Sarah was understandably shocked by this occurrence and even more shocked to learn the extent of his gambling debts. She felt no grief for Frederick himself, for they had been estranged almost from the beginning of their marriage.

Frederick Younge far preferred drinking, gaming and pursuing women to paying attention to his estates or his wife. Estate management was something Sarah knew nothing about, so she had no idea how dangerous Frederick's proclivities were to her future.

Clearing the debts necessitated the sale of their country estate as well as two smaller properties. Luckily what remained, the London house and a small income, was left to Sarah as there were no competing heirs. It was enough to live on but not enough to continue her usual lifestyle.

Although it was impossible to hide the sale of the Younge country estate, the precise details of Sarah's inheritance were not public.

Sarah told her friends and acquaintances who visited her for tea - her only socially acceptable activity during the first six months of mourning - that she was considering finding a position as a companion, perhaps to another widow or a young lady making her debut.

She said that she needed purpose and challenge to stave off loneliness and keep her mind off her grief for Frederick. She would much rather kick Frederick than grieve for the miserable sod, but one had to conform to society's mores.

Sarah hated all the rituals of mourning. She particularly hated restricting her life for someone she despised. She who lived for parties, soirees and balls, had endured an almost non-existent social life for the past six months, and she would not be dancing for at least another six months. On top of coming to terms with Frederick's gambling debts, mourning was like an unfair punishment.

Now, it was June, and she could begin to go about again, albeit in a restricted fashion. She was anxious to put some of her plans into action.

In truth her goals were simple. She wanted to maintain her position in society throughout her mourning period and beyond. Then she would marry a rich man - one who would not gamble away his estates. She aimed to find a man she could at least respect. After Frederick's many betrayals, Sarah no longer hoped for love in marriage.

As Sarah was very popular, her friends were happy to help her find a suitable position. A rich, sociable, older widow was her preference, but at this time of year, she would not be too choosy. Sarah soon learnt of an opportunity. Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy was in urgent need of a companion and governess for his young sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.

"Mr Darcy!" thought Sarah, "the highly enigmatic Fitzwilliam Darcy".

Never at balls, hardly ever seen when in town, only occasionally encountered at private dinner parties, Sarah barely knew Mr Darcy. Still, she knew a lot about him. She knew less about Mr Darcy's young sister, just that Miss Darcy was around fifteen years of age and had a dowry of thirty thousand pounds, the lucky girl.

"Fifteen", mused Sarah. That would mean at least a two-year commitment before Miss Darcy makes her debut. With her dowry, she would have many eligible suitors, and there was an excellent chance she would marry quickly.

"If I were in a comfortable situation, I would not mind waiting up to three years to remarry", she thought. The advantages of the position were numerous. She made a mental list. A highly respectable and sought after family; a luxurious house in town and vast country estates; the possibility of keeping up with her friends; the challenge of successfully launching a young lady into society; a no doubt generous salary; a handsome, wealthy and single employer who did not gamble to excess.

Although Mr Darcy did not himself socialise much, "Surely", she thought, "he will understand how important it is that I keep up with my friends in the ton - for the benefit of his sister of course".

So it was that morning, just over six months after Frederick's untimely demise, Mrs Sarah Younge presented herself for an interview with Mr Darcy.

Sarah followed the Butler into Mr Darcy's study. Mr Darcy stood and bowed.

"Welcome, Mrs Younge", he said.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy." said Sarah executing a modest curtsy.

"Please sit." Darcy indicated a chair in front of the desk.

"He is so proper," thought Sarah, "as well as tall, handsome, and wretched. Oh, why did I think that? So rich is what I meant."

Mr Darcy sat down again and gazed severely at Sarah from across the desk. Sarah noted the dark curly hair, the furrowed brow, the ferocious eyebrows, the long dark lashes and the bottom lip pushed up into a frown. His eyes were pits of blackness from which the occasional spark escaped. He was both beautiful and terrifying.

Sarah felt a bit intimidated though she did not allow herself to appear so.

After all, there were whispers among the ladies of the ton, more speculation than rumour, that this man was possibly no threat to any woman. It was distressingly unfortunate, if true.

Drawing upon her many social skills, she banished intimidation. Instead, she gazed steadily back at him and smiled, a small, friendly but not flirtatious smile.

He did not return the smile. She thought "He looks so disapproving and pained as if he has a poker up his...stop it Sarah". Now she had a ridiculous desire to laugh. Years of social conditioning allowed her to avoid such a dreadful faux pas.

"I dressed with such care," she thought "in my most modest dress, black and horrible of course, but eminently suitable. He looks like he is about to tell me I will never do."

"My condolences on the loss of your husband," said Mr Darcy.

Surprised, Sarah inclined her head and whispered: "Thank you".

The Butler ushered in a maid, bearing tea.

A minute later, sipping an excellent cup of tea, Sarah willed herself to relax. Brusque and business-like, Darcy spoke.

"Mrs Younge. As you know, I require a companion and governess for my sister, Georgiana, who is fifteen."

"I must be honest, Mr Darcy. While I am well educated, particularly in languages, I am probably more qualified to be the former."

"I believe Georgiana has less need of a governess now. She, too, is already well educated and very advanced in her studies, particularly music."

He stopped there and gazed broodingly over her left shoulder as if there was something nasty in the back of the room. More likely, he just could not bring himself to say what came next. Sarah was sure that whatever it was, it began with 'but'.

For the first time, Sarah began to be curious about Miss Georgiana Darcy.

"Tell me about Miss Darcy. What is she like?" she asked gently.

"Georgiana lacks confidence and exhibits extreme shyness in social situations."

"What kinds of social situations, Mr Darcy?

"My sister socialises with family and close friends only - dinners, teas, even the occasional private dance if we are staying in the country."

"Fifteen can be an awkward age," said Sarah. "A young lady is no longer a child, but not yet out. Opportunities to practise social interactions can be limited."

"True. Even with family and friends, Georgiana does not initiate nor participate in conversation unless directly addressed. She is an excellent pianist but cannot be prevailed upon to perform," he said flatly.

His expression was even darker, and he looked down at the desktop a moment, then back at Sarah as if challenging her in some way. Sarah thought: "Does he blame the poor girl for her shyness? Does he know how scary he is? Does he regularly intimidate his sister into babbling inarticulation by looking at her like that?"

"Do you have any idea why she lacks confidence? What was she like as a child?" asked Sarah.

Surprised or affronted by her question, he paused for a few moments before answering, as if he had never before considered the matter.

"I was twelve when Georgiana was born. She never knew our mother. Our father died when she was ten. I didn't have much to do with her as a child. I was always away at school and later Cambridge. I recall she was quiet but liked me to read to her. She always asked a lot of questions!"

There it was, an instant of softening around his eyes as he remembered. "He does care for his sister", she thought. "What a relief! I wonder if she knows."

"I imagine she was devastated when she lost her father."

"Yes." His face shut down. His eyes were dead, but he still glared. Was he so cold? No, and yes. A raging fire encased in ice. Sarah repressed a shiver. She wanted no part of his demons, whatever they were. She did, however, want the position. It was best to stick to the business at hand.

"Are you together much at the moment, or do your obligations keep you apart?"

"We are not together as often as I would like. Georgiana has been away at school this past year. My obligations to my estates mean I am often away. We are together at Pemberley at Christmas. Georgiana's joint guardian, our cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, is also frequently overseas with the army."

"How is Miss Darcy with her friends?"

"She has trouble making friends," he said. "I have just removed her from school at her request. While she enjoyed the lessons, the other young ladies were not...friendly."

"So she does not have a particular friend, her age?"

"I think not."

"Mr Darcy, what are your expectations for Miss Darcy's further education and come out?"

"Georgiana will continue her lessons with her music and painting masters. I would like her to keep up her study of languages, history and current affairs. She should have her first season at seventeen, but I do not mind if she waits another year.

I believe my sister needs a companion who can her prepare for the trials and challenges of society. A lady who understands the ways of the ton and can teach Georgiana not only to survive but thrive in that world. Someone who is not so advanced in years that she has forgotten what it is like to be fifteen, shy and uncomfortable with people. Mrs Younge, I believe you are the one I seek".

"I hope so, Mr Darcy. The past six months have been very difficult. I find myself in need of a worthy purpose to occupy my mind and my time. I would dearly love the challenge of preparing Miss Darcy for her debut", said Sarah. "I have a suggestion, Mr Darcy."

"Certainly".

"I do indeed remember what is like to be fifteen. I had several good friends, and we experienced the excitement and trepidation of our first Season, together, making the whole thing much easier for us all. I have many friends and acquaintances in society and quite a few have daughters of Miss Darcy's age. I would suggest that I introduce Miss Darcy to some of these young ladies soon as they will probably debut in the same Season. It is possible that Miss Darcy might find one or two have compatible interests and disposition, and their acquaintance might develop into friendship".

"That is an excellent suggestion," said Mr Darcy, apparently happy enough to use a superlative, though still glaring. "Mrs Younge, I would like to offer you the position. I believe you are available within the week. I have urgent matters to attend to at Pemberley and must leave London soon".

"Thank you, Mr Darcy. I certainly can start later this week. Will Miss Darcy and I be remaining in town or accompanying you to Pemberley?"

"Neither," said Mr Darcy. "I have taken a house in Ramsgate for the rest of the summer. I believe a bit of sea air will be good for Georgiana. I should be able to join you there by late July. If any of the young ladies you mentioned are in Ramsgate for the summer, please introduce them to Georgiana."

"I will, Mr Darcy," said Sarah, very pleased with this news. She had not expected to escape the heat of London this year. What a fortunate thing!

"I would introduce you to Georgiana now, but she is staying with our aunt and uncle for a few days."

Sarah nodded. They commenced talking about salary and other relevant things.

Sarah left the Darcy house very pleased with herself and the world. Mr Darcy had offered her an excellent salary. She would be able to socialise a little, and more so after her mourning period ended, to keep up with her friends. She would live in luxury and have enough money to dress well, if more conservatively than before. She would move in the best of society and successfully launch Miss Darcy into society in two years time. By the time Miss Darcy married, Sarah would have attracted the attention of another wealthy man, maybe even her employer!

Sarah thought of Mr Darcy. He was exceedingly attractive even if his usual facial expression was a glare. Sarah thought: "I much prefer open, uncomplicated men who smile, converse and flirt. Oh! That sounds like Frederick! Well as long as I don't care or stupidly fall in love, it doesn't matter. If Mr Darcy, who is no doubt difficult and often bad-tempered, wants to marry me, I won't say no! What woman would?"

Sarah had a lot to do to be ready to leave London within a week. She visited her man of business and instructed him to let her house fully furnished and staffed to a wealthy merchant or someone with no entree to Sarah's world. The rent would nicely supplement her income, and she would still own a substantial property.

Her next stop was home, for luncheon and a rest. As her maid prepared Sarah for her first real social engagement in six months, a soiree, Sarah excitedly told her about their upcoming adventure.

The soiree, one of the last of the season, was held at the home of a good friend of Sarah's, the older, somewhat eccentric widow, Lady Amelia Harris. Lady Amelia promised music, poetry, food and wine. Her soirees were always well attended. There would likely be an eclectic group of attendees, but that made it more interesting. At this time of year, most people of the ton had already left town, but Sarah knew several of her friends would be there.

As soon as Sarah arrived, Lady Amelia rushed over to greet her. Several of Sarah's friends were not far behind and soon surrounded her. They eagerly entreated Sarah to tell them everything about her interview with Mr Darcy. Sarah was only too happy to oblige. Laughing at their exuberance, she said: "Ladies, behold the new companion of Miss Georgiana Darcy!"

Her friends congratulated Sarah excitedly and loudly, no one noticing that a man standing nearby was eavesdropping, alerted by the name "Darcy". He watched and listened as the vivacious young lady in black laughed and talked with her friends.

"You will not believe my good fortune!" she was saying "I despaired of getting away from London this year with all the business of the estate and mourning. Mr Darcy has hired a house in Ramsgate! Miss Darcy and I will travel there next week for the rest of the summer."

"Oh, my dear Sarah. That is excellent news! We will see you there. Will Mr Darcy be going to Ramsgate, too ?"

"He will indeed, Maria!" she replied "but not until the end of July."

The listener found this a fascinating conversation. An introduction was in order. He hovered near the group of ladies and waited for a break in the conversation, which occurred when a waiter offered them drinks from a tray. He then addressed his hostess.

"Lady Amelia," he said, "would you be so kind as to introduce me to this lady?" He indicated Sarah.

Sarah looked up at him. He was a stranger - tall, dark and handsome, with an open, engaging countenance. He radiated charm and confidence. His eyes were deep blue, and he was smiling at her.

All Sarah could think as she fell under his spell was, "No, this can't be happening. Not to me. It cannot! Not now. Why now?"


End file.
